


Aftermath

by dcjuris



Series: Carry On [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Saileen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:28:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcjuris/pseuds/dcjuris
Summary: The first few weeks without Cas.
Relationships: Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: Carry On [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207463
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Aftermath

Dean wakes slowly, holding on to blissful darkness as long as he can. _Cas is dead_. It's his first thought and his last every day. Cas is dead. There's no do over this time. No powerful friend to bring him back. It's been twenty days since The Empty. 

_"Why does this sound like a goodbye?"_

_"Because it is."_

He grinds his knuckles into his eyes with a groan. Last night's dinner sits forgotten on the nightstand, just another addition to the growing Pile of Gross that is his room. He can't remember the last time he showered. Or brushed his hair. Or his teeth.

He fully expected Sam to give him a hard time, harp on him for not leaving his room, but he hasn't. Day one found his brother knocking on the door at lunch and dinner, gently trying to coax him out, but leaving a plate of food when he couldn't. Sometime around week two the knocks stopped, and they must've run out of dishes because lately everything's being delivered on paper plates instead of real ones. 

_"I love you."_

He hears Cas' voice at random moments, mostly when his mind tries to wander off to other topics, like hygiene or anything other than feeling like hammered crap. Just when he starts to think that maybe he can actually leave the bed today, he's reminded of why he's here in the first place—because Cas is dead, and Dean is a fucking coward. The things he didn't say, the things he _should've_ said sit stuck in his throat like heartburn.

But he's also aware that the angel wouldn't be very impressed with is current situation. He can just imagine Cas walking in, looking around with a wrinkled nose, and saying something like _Dean, it's very unpleasant in here_.

Which might just matter if Cas were actually going to walk in the door, but… Cas is dead.

Dean scratches at his beard and yawns, getting a good whiff of his breath, and holy fucking shit. He may not be ready to mingle, but he doesn't have to wallow _like this_. He stretches and swings his feet over the edge of the bed to stand. First things first. He strips the sheets and pillowcases and balls them up, throws them in the corner in the direction of the clothes hamper. He glances down at the floor—the clothes he had on when Cas died are still there, piled at the end of the bed where he stripped them off. They're the last thing Cas saw him in, so on some level it feels wrong to wash them. But he also knows Cas would give him some long-winded speech about how _physical appearance is irrelevant, Dean_.

_"Why does this sound like a goodbye?"_

_"Because it is."_

Cas is dead.

Dean shakes himself and moves around the room, methodically grabbing up clothes to shove them in the hamper and scraping off food into the trashcan. He ends up with a stack of plates and silverware, three small bags of garbage, and an overflowing pile of laundry. He strips and heads to the bathroom.

***

After his shower, Dean gathers up the dishes and garbage bags and heads to the kitchen. He rounds a corner and runs right into Sam.

Sam's face lights up for a split second, before settling into something between awe and worry. "Hey!"

"Hey." He holds up the garbage bags. "Gettin' kinda ripe in there."

"I can imagine."

"And I figured you'd want some dishes back."

"Don't worry about that," he rushes the words out with far more pity than Dean can stomach.

"Yeah, well. Don't want them to cut down an entire rainforest just so I can eat."

Sam chuckles and nods. "Yeah, that would suck."

It's weird and awkward, and Dean hates it, but he has no idea what he's supposed to do here. He wants to run back to his room, but the light in Sam's eyes keeps him rooted to the spot.

"I'm sorry," Sam murmurs.

"Me too."

"If you ever… You know, if you want to talk, I'm here."

Dean shrugs, and gestures back down the hall. "I should…."

Sam's face falls for a second before he catches himself and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Well, the offer stands."

He turns to walk away and suddenly Dean panics. He can't stand the sight of someone else leaving him, of another back turned. He's not sure why he says what he does. "He said he loved me."

Sam freezes and turns around. He doesn't say anything, but his forehead takes on the patented Worried Sam Wrinkle.

"He's said it before, yanno. But this… This was different. He meant it differently. He said… He said the only thing that would make him happy was the one thing he couldn't have. Me "

"What did you say?"

Dean chuckles bitterly. "Nothin'. I mean, what the hell do you say when an Angel of the Lord professes his love for you? I couldn't…." Couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Cas wanted him, that they could've had each other for all those years. He's not sure if that makes the mourning easier or worse.

"What did you _want_ to say?"

"That he was wrong."

Sam scoffs softly. "Dean, you're worthy of love."

"Not about that part. Although, yeah, it's pretty fucked up that someone like him could fall for someone like me. But I meant… I meant the not having me part. The thinking I didn't feel something back."

"He knew, Dean. We all knew."

"He didn't know. And I… I didn't tell him."

"It was a lot to take in. The situation was tense, you—"

"Stop." He voice very nearly breaks on the word.

Sam nods.

They stand there in strained silence. Dean desperately wants to keep talking, to seek comfort from his brother, but he can't. Sam reaches a hand out but pulls it back.

"I'm gonna—"

"Do you—"

There's a shared laugh as they talk over each other. Dean gestures for Sam to continue.

"Eileen and I are going out for dinner. Do you want to come?" He swallows hard. "I mean, I know it's hard to see her, when Cas—"

"No. It's not like that." And it's really not. He isn't jealous of Sam, or mad that Sam's partner is back and his isn't. All he's ever wanted was Sam's safety and happiness, and honestly he's over the fucking moon that his baby brother might actually have both now. He rubs the back of his neck. "You don't need me being third wheel, though, man. Go out and have a good time."

"I do, though." Sam takes a step closer. "I do need you, Dean. I need my big brother."

"I'm right here."

Sam nods and looks down at the floor. "And you're going to stay, right? You're not… You won't…" He raises his head, puppy dog eyes glistening.

"Sammy…" Dean drops the garbage bags to grab him by the shoulder and pull him in. Sam clings hard—Dean can feel Sam's fists clench in his shirt. "I'm not goin' anywhere, okay? I just… I just need some time. But I'm here, okay?"

Sam nods frantically and sniffles a little.

Fuck it. "So, where ya takin' me for dinner?"

Sam pulls back just enough to see Dean, keeps his hands gripped tight on Dean's shirt sleeves. "Really?"

"Yeah. You're right, yanno? It'd be nice to get out. Stretch my legs." He says it with a light tone he doesn’t feel in his soul, but Sam’s beaming at him with wet eyes, and fuck, he could never deny the kid anything. He zones out as Sam rattles off their dinner plans, because honestly where they’re going and what they’re eating is irrelevant.

“Does that sound good?”

Dean nods. “Sounds great. I’m driving though.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll go grab Eileen.”

"Kay. I'll meet you at the car."

_"Why does this sound like a goodbye?"_

_"Because it is."_

Cas is dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also a published author. I'm DC Juris. If you like my writing style, you can find my works on Amazon.


End file.
